


Birthday Suit

by Sussi



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 07:03:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sussi/pseuds/Sussi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An embarrassing moment for Hotch turns into something really good...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Suit

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Ho-otch! Happy birthday to you!"

The singing, well mainly Garcia's enthusiastic chirping, echoed across the almost empty bullpen, filling the large space with noise. Normally a birthday would be celebrated at lunch time with everyone in the unit, sometimes even everyone on the floor, there. This particular birthday, however, was about to be celebrated by only a select few and as late in the workday as possible. Really they were only doing it to please Garcia who had said that even though he never ever as much as mentioned his birthday Hotch – like everyone else – wanted his friends to acknowledge it.

When Morgan had said that he highly doubted that this guest of honor would want any attention Garcia had started to sniffle. Then she had gone on for fifteen minutes about how important it was to show your friends that you love them and that this was a chance for them to remember the "bright, fluffy and cheery" in the world. After that it hadn't been a question of whether they were having a party it had been a question of how big. With a little bit of coercing and the promise of several new fluffy pens they had managed to talk her down from a full-blown surprise party with the entire sixth floor to a small gathering with only the team.

As the singing drew to a shaky end, Reid's voice breaking on the final note, Hotch looked around at the six awkwardly smiling faces looking back at him and he felt…well, honestly, a little bit overwhelmed. And as his eyes jumped from Garcia to Morgan to JJ, all smiling warmly at him, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to the three inch high stack of files resting on his desk that he really needed to do before the end of the day. Reid's nervous fidgeting and the way Dave was looking at the clock on the wall behind him made him pretty positive that really they all knew that he'd rather be working than taking any notice of his own birthday.

He knew that they all meant well, but really he just wanted to finish those case files, go home and have a quiet drink and watch some ESPN before falling into bed. He used to celebrate his birthday when he was married, mostly because things like that were important to Haley. But after the divorce he didn't see any reason anymore. But as his eyes finally reached the last face in the line, looking at him with big brown eyes and smiling red lips, his heart skipped a few beats and he decided that humoring them for one piece of cake and a little casual chitchat wouldn't hurt.

"Happy birthday, oh captain my captain!" Garcia smiled, grabbing him rather forcefully by the shoulders and directing him onto one of the desk chairs. "Sit down sir and let us be your humble servants!" she sing-songed, "Today is your day!"

He felt a little awkward as she fussed over him like he was five years old, but he knew how much things like this mattered to her so he sat back and gave her a small smile. He even accepted the small package, wrapped in furiously bright fuchsia paper that she stuck under his nose, without any protest. As he unwrapped the soft leather day planner, thanking her profusely, he caught a whiff of the fresh, citrusy perfume he would know in his sleep.

"Want a piece of your birthday cake, Hotch?" the husky voice that could make his knees buckle asked. "It looks really tasty."

The fleeting thought that he knew what else would be tasty floated through the front of his mind as he looked up into her big sparkling eyes, noticing the way her red sweater hugged her curves on the way made that thought even more prominent. The stirring a few inches below his bellybutton was impossible for him to ignore and a deep sigh shook his body. Pushing thoughts of what was beneath that sweater to the back of his mind, he gave her a tiny dimple. "Sure, Prentiss. Thank you," he said reaching out a hand to accept the plate with a large piece of chocolate cake she was holding out in front of him.

Distracted by dangerous thoughts and the way her perfume tickled his nose he closed his fist around thin air. Hearing Emily let out a short gasp, he could only watch as the plate slipped from her hand and landed with a splash right on his light grey slacks.  
"Oh my God, Hotch I am so sorry. I thought you had it. I'm sorry," Emily rambled, the words jumbling together, as she fumbled with the slippery plate. Finally lifting it off of Hotch's crotch, it revealed a large, messy, brown stain. "I'm so sorry. Here, I have napkins." She pulled a few from a stack, knocking it over and covering the floor with them, and started blotting at the chocolate on Hotch's slacks.

Hotch had to bite down on his bottom lip so not to moan when Emily started pressing the napkin against his crotch. The fact that one of his best pairs of slacks was more or less ruined didn't even register with him. Her perfume, her snug sweater, thoughts of tasting her sweet smelling skin, everything had him on high alert as her small hands almost massaged him through his pants. He realized that the blush creeping over her face was from embarrassment and not arousal but he couldn't stop his body's reaction. He had thought that his age would mean that he'd need a bit more to… get going. Apparently not though, he realized as he felt himself twitch dangerously yet so deliciously.

"It's okay, Prentiss," he managed to breath through gritted teeth as he hurriedly got to his feet, almost knocking over Emily who was crouching down next to him, "I'll get it. It's okay. Really." With that he sprinted away towards the men's room with nervous beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and his cock aching between his thighs.

Closing the door behind him, he drew several deep breaths, hoping that the stale bathroom air would act as a cold shower. Trusting his legs to work he walked over to the sink, closing his eyes, and splashed tepid water on his face. Waiting a few moments, feeling his pulse slow down, he thought that maybe the worst part was over. But a knock on the door and Emily's soft voice outside the door sent his pulse racing again.

"Hotch? I found some club soda in the kitchenette. It might get some of the chocolate out."

The door opened, startling him, and he spun around, making sure that he had his back turned towards Emily. Her voice and her busting into the men's room only made his problem grow bigger… and harder. "Emily," he said as he heard her enter, his back still turned towards the door, "this is the men's room."

"So?" she said and he could hear the smile lingering on her face and it only made him think of her lips and her mouth and he was sure that his problem was clearly visible now but he was too nervous to actually look. "You're the only one in here and it's not like I'm here to give you a blowjob," he definitely twitched at those words, "I'm just getting you some club soda to clean your slacks."

"Thanks," he huffed out, "you can leave it by the door."

"Hotch? What's wrong?" Emily said, sound genuinely worried.

"Nothing," Hotch tried.

"But why won't you look at me?" Emily said, stepping closer, "Have I done something wrong? Are you mad about the cake?"

"No, no not at all," Hotch said, "I just have a… a bit of a problem right now… nothing to worry about. I'll be right out."

"Are you sure? You sound like you're in pain."

"Prentiss," Hotch pleaded, willing her to understand without him having to spell it out for her, "I just… I have a problem…" He screwed his eyes shut, trying to will his body to evaporate. He had never felt more embarrassed in his entire life.

"Oh… Oh." Emily's mouth formed a perfect circle as she apparently understood fully in what predicament Hotch had found himself. He waited, as she stayed silent for what seemed like an eternity, and then he heard small feet closing in on him. The hand on his shoulder took him by surprise and egged him on at the same time. His breath spilled out in short huffs as he waited for her to speak.

"Because of me?" Her voice was hesitant, but the underlying excitement was clear in its huskiness. "Did I cause it?"

"Yes." He felt flames erupt inside him as her other hand connected with his arm, dragging it torturously slowly along his shirtsleeve.

The next words filling the room were uttered so close to his ear that her breath felt wet and warm on his skin. "Do you want me to give you a hand?" She must have known his answer, because she didn't wait for one. Her hand slipped further down, finding the zipper on his slacks, and her lips touched his cheek.

His ribcage contracted, sucking in air sharply, as her hand sneaked inside his pants without any real warning. Part of him was surprised at how forward she was being and part of him knew that he had always expected her to be the one to grab whatever she wanted without asking permission. And that made him want her even more. He could feel himself grow, every drop of blood running through his body rushing down and making him throb in her hand. She purred encouraging words against his ear and he had to steady himself against the sink.

"Oh God, Hotch…" she sighed approvingly, pumping her fist along his length and running her fingers gently through the moisture at the tip.

"Oohhhhh." He thought he would explode. The pleasure her gentle hand was lavishing onto him had him reeling in seconds. He muffled another deep groan, still vaguely aware that someone might come in and find them. But her hands quickly wiped away such thoughts until all he could think about was her. The way she felt pressed against his back, her scent lingering all around him, her lips on his neck and her hand working him towards oblivion.

"Emily!" he gasped as he felt a ball of fire coil inside him. He wanted all of her, not just her hand. He wanted to feel her enveloping him as he let go. He slipped from her grip, twisting around to face her. For a second he felt silly, standing with his slacks and boxers pushed down but his shirt still buttoned, but the pretty pink blush adorning Emily's cheeks chased away that feeling. He grabbed her hips, her skirt bunching in his fingers. "Emily… I want… Can I?" Words escaped him when her bright eyes met his hooded gaze.

"Only if you say the words, Hotch…" she said, smiling.

"I want to be inside of you," he said, the words rolling easily off his tongue.

She nodded, her smile only growing in intensity when his hands slipped under her skirt and his fingers drew circles on her bare skin. Stopping himself, his heart dropping for a second, he remembered; "Emily, I don't have a condom."

"Hotch," Emily said, guiding his hands to the waistband of her panties, "you're Aaron Hotchner, I trust you. And you can trust me… pill." She cocked a slim eyebrow. "Oh. Hotch." She mewled as calloused fingers dipped inside her underwear.

Hotch marveled for a second at how wet she was and how soft she felt under his touch. But he needed her. She went willingly when he turned her around and she moaned roughly and wiggled her behind against his cock when he leaned her against the sink. Pushing her skirt up around her waist and pulling her panties to the side, he deftly slipped inside her. "Ho-otch!" she moaned.

He pushed till he was completely sheeted by her, reveling in the way she was squeezing him. Pulling out their breaths stuttered in unison and as he thrust back they shared matching muffled cries of pleasure. He found his rhythm, eliciting moan after groan after breathy sigh from Emily, and feeling himself building on his own crescendo.

The flames inside him touched every limb and his toes curled tightly. There was no turning back; he knew the explosion was imminent. Shutting his eyes hard he pushed into Emily as forcefully as his tired muscles allowed him and when her walls fluttered around his shaft and she moaned his name in one long sigh he let himself go along with her. "Emily! Emily! Emily!" he chanted along with short, erratic thrusts. "Ooooh." He emptied himself inside her and for a moment everything around him went blurry.

"Oh God, Hotch."

Emily's voice and her heavy panting made her and the cold men's room come back into focus. He sighed, with a lot of relief and with a little bit of discomfort. They were in a men's room. He had dreamed of this moment for the better part of a year and when it finally had happened it had happened in the same room as a urinal. "I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" Emily spun around, locking her eyes on him.

"I've wanted this for so long. But it was never supposed to happen like this," he threw his hands out at the room, "I should have been able to control my urges better."

"Don't say that," Emily said, wrapping her arms around him, "you always control your urges. I'm glad that you didn't for once in your life. I will admit that a bed may have been a more comfy choice, but if you really want to make this up to me somehow there is a very easy way for you to do that."

"What?"

"Go out to the others, tell them you'd like to take home some of that cake and meet me by the cars in ten minutes."

"Really?"

"Really. Now go."

Quickly doing up his fly and smoothing down his crumpled shirt, Hotch hurried towards the door. "And Hotch?" Emily's voice stopped him.

"Yeah?"

"Happy birthday."

***


End file.
